A/N: Hah, I'm kind of surprised the last chapter didn't get more of a reaction. The peanut gallery was especially responsive to it. Of course, then they were like where's the sexytimes?

In any case, here's the next chapter! Early! Because I leave orientation for Gangwon… and I don't know what kind of internet access I'll have in Gangwon. AND because it's 5 am and I have nothing else I can do that doesn't require sitting quietly in the dark.

I'd also like to note that I've heard more 'ehs?' in the last few days than I have all my life, LOL. And I have been informed that I'm "too quiet to be an American." I asked if I ran around saying eh? Eh? Aboot! Polar bear! Eskimo! Igloo? Maple syrup, eh? Eh? Eh? If I sounded Canadian. I am not loud enough to be an American, but I am surely obnoxious enough, eh? I was also told "Americans are scary, but you are really nice, you're the exception!" by my roomie from S. Africa. She says that now, but wait until I introduce her to Cold Stone Creamery and Starbucks… she might change her mind when she's addicted.

In any case, if you're interested, I'm blogging my experiences. You can get the address on my profile under my blogger account :)

Chapter Fifteen

Matthew woke up the morning after the party with the most horrendous headache he had ever encountered. He smacked his lips, noting the disgusting, sour taste in his dry mouth, and rolled over on his side.

"God, how many beers did I have last night?" he whimpered to himself, grateful he hadn't thrown up all over the place. He hadn't thrown up at all, not that he remembered, if the taste in his mouth was anything to go by.

Slowly, he staggered to his feet, half hunched over, and almost toppled over a glass of water on the night stand. He didn't remember putting it there; Alfred must have left it for him last night. There was no way Alfred got up before him. That was just physically impossible. Especially with the number of jello shots Matthew saw him down.

He glanced at the clock and stared until the fuzzy numbers announced themselves. It was twenty after noon. He grunted, suddenly realizing his bladder was about to explode. It took some effort but he made it back to his room without dunking his head in the toilet or waking up the weirdo asleep in the tub.

"Shit." Matthew mumbled as he sat down and sipped the water. Things were still a little fuzzy. He didn't think he was still drunk, but his body wasn't too thrilled about being up. It wanted to sleep some more. He noticed the two little pills and washed them down. How unlike Alfred to remember to leave him some painkiller… and water?

He tried to remember last night. He remembered growling at Gilbert and then somehow making it to the dance floor. He still didn't remember how many beers he had, which couldn't be good and no wonder he had a killer headache. He wasn't a party binge drinker like Alfred; he didn't usually go out of his way to get sloshed.

"Hey, Mattie?"

Matthew looked up and was surprised to see Alfred with a trash bag in one hand and the decrepit vacuum dragging behind him in the other. Alfred looked disgustingly chipper about the whole thing.

"Man, you okay? You were totally trashed last night."

Thanks Captain Obvious.

"Er, you're not sore or anything, are you?" Alfred asked looking anxious and sheepish at the same time. Matthew just stared at him blankly before answering, "My head feels like that time you got a drum set for Christmas."

"You're not sore… in other places… are you?" Alfred made a vague motion towards his backside and grimaced. Matthew blinked and rubbed his eyes, working his way through Alfred's typical evasive yapping. Maybe he'd go back to sleep. He was mid-yawn when what Alfred meant hit him. He flushed and fell back against the bed pitifully, "No, er, why?"

"Nothing. Just wondering if you got some, that's all." Alfred chuckled and then leered for good measure. But he didn't quite cover up the look of concern in his sky blue eyes. He then babbled, "You totally missed the fireworks! They were so awesome! I mean, this was the best year ever so far!"

"They let you light fireworks drunk?" Matthew slurred, scandalized, and quite willing to harp on Alfred's shortcoming instead of considering who he almost slept with last night. Alfred grinned brightly and rubbed the back of his head, "I wasn't drunk. I didn't touch a drop last night because that would just be stupid since I wanted to blow shit up. But not blow my dick off, you know? I made some placebo jello shots for Peter and had a few. Oh, and a Red Bull for energy. And some hamburgers…"

Matthew held up a hand and Alfred quit his nervous and excited babbling.

"Go away. I have a headache." Matthew said in a whisper. "We can talk about this later."

"Uh, sure. But don't you have hockey practice today?"

Shit. Shitshitshit.

"You want me to call you in sick? Cuz I can totally do that…" And have Alfred say he had the clap from Francis or something? No thanks. Plus, half the hockey team was at the party last night. They'd definitely know that Matthew was wimping out because of a hangover.

"No, I'm going to take a shower. Go kick that guy out of the bathtub for me, will you?"

"Man, I thought I cleared everyone out. Didn't think to look in the bathtub." Alfred mumbled with a frown. He paused at the door frame, still holding his cleaning supplies, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Fine." Matthew quirked an eyebrow and then winced at the movement. He waited a few more minutes for the painkillers to kick in before staggering to the bathroom. Fifteen minutes later he was ready for bed again but staggering out the front door instead.

"Want me to call Tino to come pick you up?" Alfred asked, appearing at the door like a mother hen. He looked absurd. Somewhere he had found an apron, a bandanna, and a pair of bright, yellow dish gloves. Matthew almost growled and glared suspiciously. Normally Alfred would have Ivan over in less than ten minutes, but now he was talking about Tino? Since when did Alfred talk—never mind, Alfred talked to everyone.

"No." Matthew did growl then added, "Thanks for the aspirin and water though. I really needed that."

"What?" Alfred blinked cluelessly then gave a forced smile, "No problem."

Weird.

Things only got weirder. Matthew was late, of course, but he still managed to put on his padding and gear. He spent the next hour intensifying his headache. Eventually Tino took pity on him and put him on the bench for a while. He was obscenely grateful that Tino was captain and not someone else.

Once practice was over he made it back to the changing room and noticed Ivan staring at him. Ivan quickly looked away. Okay, weird.

Matthew quickly changed and made his way over toward Ivan. Ivan saw him coming and straightened up before taking a few steps back. He put on his most fake and plastic smile and greeted him, "Good afternoon Matvey. Does your head hurt?"

Very weird. Weird and weirder. How'd Ivan know he was nursing a killer headache?

"Uh, a little. I took some painkiller earlier."

Ivan gave a knowing nod.

There was an awkward silence between them were Ivan just kept smiling blankly and Matthew was trying not to drift off into senselessness.

"Hey, congrats on your boyfriend. He must be hung like a horse." Søren grinned wolfishly and ruffled Matthew's hair. He gave Ivan a wink and sauntered off to torment Berwald. Everyone else in the room turned to look at them with knowing smirks.

And Matthew was getting really weirded out.

If things kept going like this he was going to be as paranoid as his brother was about the supernatural. Minus the sobbing and nightmares part. Well, maybe the nightmares, but definitely not sobbing. He would not have sobbing over being stared at like he was the juiciest piece of gossip of the school year.

Matthew looked inquiringly at Ivan, who had turned away and was getting ready to leave.

"Want me to walk with you?" It was a pretty standard invitation. Granted it was a bit inverted, since Ivan usually invited himself along, not the other way around, but Matthew took it for tradition. That and he wasn't sure he could make it all the way home without passing out on Ludwig's doorstep or something.

"Nyet, not today Matvey. I do not wish to be seen by Alfred."

Things had passed weird and were now in the Twilight Zone. And that stupid, creepy theme song was ringing in his hand. He shook his head and tried to concentrate.

"Did you guys get in a fight?"

Ivan gave him a probing stare before giving a careless shrug and a smile, "A misunderstanding. It will pass, I am sure. Matvey need not worry."

Matthew worried his lip. He was worried. Sure, Alfred and Ivan snipped at each other and sometimes Alfred got in a tiff for a couple hours, but this wasn't like them. This sounded like a real fight. Briefly Matthew wondered if Ivan had insulted Alfred's comic book collection again… or worse, burned it. That would definitely make Alfred pissed. But Alfred had seemed pretty cheerful earlier, even if he was cleaning up potato chip crumbs, beer cans, and who knows what else.

"If you say so…" Matthew had a sinking feeling that Alfred and Ivan were fighting over something that happened at the party last night.

Matthew knew he had a wee bit of a problem when he got drunk. Aside from the fact that he could be a professional stripper, his dance moves were so blatantly sexual, he was also very… clingy. Well, Toni had given a rich laugh and told him that he had tried to shove his tongue down Francis' throat and de-pants him in the middle of the club. Gilbert said he was a sex fiend. 'Damn Matt-Man, you are a fucking animal when you've hadda couple.'

He also never remembered much the next morning… which meant he usually woke to a very unpleasant surprise when he was sharing a bed with someone else without any recollection how he got there. Luckily, so far, it had always been someone he knew.

So far.

So last night…?

And Alfred wondered why Matthew didn't drink that often!

"Um, okay. I'll see you later Ivan." Matthew said with a half wave. He let his hand flop down and sighed. Eventually Alfred would spill something; Matthew could worry about it until his head fell off, but if he was patient, his blabbermouth brother would tell him.

He packed up the rest of his stuff and stumbled out the door. He was only a few blocks away from the rink when he had a creepy feeling he was being watched. He knew it wasn't Natalia, she had her own special vibe and Ivan wasn't with him anyway, but he didn't like it. Suddenly he really wished he had insisted on walking with Ivan. Without realizing it, Ivan had become his security blanket. Who wouldn't feel secure with a giant of a Russian for a companion? Ivan could turn people into gibbering puddles with a giggle and a glare. He could. Matthew had seen him do it. He wouldn't be surprised if he could also light them on fire… well, he could. But Matthew meant with his eyes.

Okay, he was really tired if he was thinking like Alfred.

Francis and Toni were strolling down the block from the other direction. Gilbert was following along behind them looking as hung over as Matthew felt.

"Ah, Matthieu, it is good to see you well." Francis purred, "I was afraid your new boyfriend might have been too rough. He does not seem the type to be gentle. Then again, he did carry you quite fetchingly off the dance floor last night."

This was the second time someone had mentioned his boyfriend. Matthew didn't have a boyfriend. And how did everyone know about it anyway? He really wanted to blame Alfred for this, but somehow it just wasn't smacked of Alfred. It was too… sneaky.

Matthew glanced at Gilbert who suddenly looked sour in addition to hung over. He gave Francis a kick and stomped off. Francis grimaced at the kick but managed not to hop in pain. Toni shrugged and smiled, following his friend.

Francis slung a companionable arm over Matthew's shoulders. Matthew wanted to complain that his arm was heavy but he was afraid Francis might take it as an invitation to wrap around his waist, which had all kinds of naughty access.

"So, you must tell me. How long have you two been together?" Francis asked curiously. Matthew thought he sounded like he was fishing for something.

Alfred wasn't sneaky, but Francis was.

Did he sleep with Francis?

No, if he had, Francis wouldn't be asking him about his boyfriend.

"Uh, since last night?"

"So you are an item?" Francis pressed and Matthew wanted him to go away. He was tired and he was hungry and he wasn't interested in being quizzed on something as mythical as Arthur's pet unicorn.

"Yes."

Francis looked genuinely surprised and his hand almost slipped off Matthew's shoulder. He recovered himself quickly, although his smile looked a little forced, and he nodded. He gave Matthew an awkwardly platonic pat and edged away slightly to put a little distance between them, looking around fearfully.

Good, maybe he'd go away.

Matthew normally didn't mind Francis, but he was cranky. And hungover. Which meant he was sore and cranky. Did he mention cranky?

Eventually Francis left looking as sour as Gilbert had.

Matthew wasn't surprised to open the door to the smell of tea. He had seen Arthur's car parked in the lot. When he stumbled over the shoes in the door, he decided that Kiku must be over too. He debating between holing up in his room like some reclusive hermit or descending on the fridge like a pack of rabid lemmings. In the end hunger won out. He hoped Arthur had enough tea to get him through the shock.

"Matthew, my lad, would you like a cup?" Arthur greeted him softly. He was seated at the table with Kiku off to the left cleaning something. Kiku gave an equally soft greeting.

"No thanks. Food. Where's Alfred?" Matthew asked diving into the fridge. He grabbed a jar of sweet pickles, some carrots, a package of unidentified deli meat, and some BBQ potato chips from the top of the fridge. Dumping his scrounging together, he dug in with his fingers. Arthur winced and took a long drag of his tea.

Looking steadily over the cup rim, he answered, "We sent him to the store. The bloody git was far too noisy considering last night."

"He didn't drink anything. Fireworks."

Arthur nodded in understanding.

"So you have gotten yourself a boyfriend."

Matthew choked on the pickle he was in the middle of inhaling. He gagged and coughed while Arthur took another sip of tea and Kiku peered at him anxiously. Once he cleared his airways, he squeaked, "What?"

"Oh come now, it was all over the party last night." Arthur said primly, "I am asking you for confirmation. As you know, I do not put stock in baseless rumors."

Matthew just knocked his head against the counter.

"Who the hell did I sleep with last night?" he cried, "Will someone just tell me?"

Arthur raised a massive eyebrow, "I do not believe you shagged anyone."

Oh. Matthew flushed and hid behind the nameless meat. It vaguely tasted like turkey. So he didn't sleep with anyone.

"But Alfred did not take the announcement too well. In fact, he was quite brash about it. And I agree with him. Matthew, you can certainly do better." Arthur said plainly, disapproval in his face. Matthew hated it when he went into lecture-mode. He'd make a great principal some day; he'd scare the kids shitless. Kiku nodded silently in agreement, although he didn't voice his disapproval with Matthew's "choice."

Great, that wasn't much of a clue. Arthur pretty much hated the entire student body. Although he seemed to have a soft spot for Matthew when he bothered to remember him.

Hence the un-welcome fatherly lecture.

Why didn't Arthur show Alfred how to use a condom?

Matthew shoved a pickle in his mouth with some chips.

"Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Matthew swallowed and shook his head. He had absolutely nothing to say about his imaginary boyfriend. He hoped the rumors knew who it was, otherwise he would have to be like Arthur and talk to the air to keep up his image.

They all jumped as Alfred banged the door open and shut before stomping in the kitchen with a happy grin. Matthew noticed he was wearing a completely new outfit; it must have been from his stockpile of presents. Matthew made a mental note to open his when he could see straight. Writing thank you notes would be awkward with his current blurry vision.

"Hiya Mattie. How was practice?"

Matthew looked at his brother deadpan, "Excruciating."

"Great." Alfred replied not paying attention to his reply. He threw the groceries on the counter and proceeded to bang around the kitchen. Both Matthew and Arthur glared and Kiku moved to help Alfred before he was murdered.

"I learned something very interesting today." Matthew continued, his eyes half screwed shut against the banging noises that were pounding into his skull. Arthur and Kiku traded glances. Arthur got up and set his tea in the sink and grabbed a trash bag. "Kiku and I will get started on the backyard."

"Sweet, that's where I hid the chocolate." Alfred chirped bent over and peering into some obscure cupboard Matthew didn't even know was there.

"It was interesting because it was a rumor about me…" Matthew trailed off, his voice still flat. Alfred, as usual, was slow to sense danger. He slowly ate another pickle in three, crisp, menacing bites. Alfred hummed some ridiculous pop song in response as he ate the possibly expired chocolate. "Who'd I sleep with last night?"

Matthew knew damn well he didn't sleep with anyone, but Alfred didn't seem to be so sure. He choked on the chocolate bar, gagging and wheezing, before turning surprised blue eyes on Matthew.

"You said you weren't sore!"

"I lied. I do that sometimes."

"No fair!"

Matthew stepped forward toward Alfred. His brother tried to straighten but Matthew moved fast enough to pin in him the extremely awkward position of looking like he was trying to do some kind of gas-relieving yoga move. Matthew grabbed a handful of hair to ensure it stayed that way.

He was not in the mood to be passive today, which just left the aggressive.

"Who?"

Alfred shook his head.

Matthew didn't get it. If Alfred was really that angry, he'd be squealing like a gutted pig. Unless he was so angry he planned on getting revenge without Matthew intervening. Well, it definitely wasn't Francis, or Gil. Arthur? Matthew grunted at that thought. It was entirely possible, considering how sloshed they both were last night, but he had a feeling Arthur would be a man about it and tell him instead of asking him roundabout if he had a boyfriend. Arthur had balls like that. Kiku? Not likely. The boy was so sexual repressed he probably paid the salaries of several porn stars. Really, it was a short list of the usual suspects, since Matthew was sure it wasn't a straight guy or a girl. He felt like he was missing someone really obvious. Maybe someone from out of town?

"Al, just tell me. I won't be mad; I promise."

"No." he whimpered, not trying to escape. He rarely tried to escape anymore. He usually just cowered and waited for Matthew to finish his rant. "And you're already mad."

GAAAAAAAAAAAAAH. Why did Alfred pick now of all times to be honorable? The wretched fuckwit! Assclown. Jerkwad. Dimwit. Twit. Matthew needed him to be a tattletale!

"Fine." Matthew snarled, "I'll just ask…" Who? Matthew had already asked Francis and Arthur. Gil looked so sulky, Matthew was sure he wasn't going to tell me. Matthew wasn't going to ask Søren if he could possibly help it, although he blushed at Søren's comment from earlier. Who else was at the party? Feliciano may know; he'd be easy to get to talk. He wasn't much of a creditable source though.

"Mattie." Alfred whimpered, "The hair, the hair."

Oops, well it'd grow back.

"Forget it," Matthew muttered. It'd come out eventually. Now that he'd eaten, he really needed another nap and some more painkillers. "And I didn't sleep with anyone last night."

Matthew released Alfred and he sprawled on the tile. He picked himself up and puffed out his chest in a showboat way.

"I knew it! Your big brother will protect your virtue, Mattie, so don't worry!" Alfred announced to Matthew and the cockroaches. He might have even been loud enough that Kiku and Arthur could hear out on the porch. "Let that asshole try anything again and I'll kick his ass!"

"Who?"

He gave a sheepish grin and bolted from the kitchen before Matthew could grab him again. He was probably going to hide behind Arthur.

Pantywaist.